


Pine, Presents, and A Proposal

by bigbidumbass



Category: 1917 (Movie 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigbidumbass/pseuds/bigbidumbass
Summary: Blakefield Winter WonderlandDay 25: Christmas DayWill and Tom share Christmas together.
Relationships: Tom Blake/William Schofield
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20
Collections: Walking In A Blakefield Wonderland





	Pine, Presents, and A Proposal

Will hadn’t much liked Christmas, but that had been before Tom. As a child, Will had found Christmas magical. There was a special feeling it had that was indescribable. As he’d grown up, it faded down into a dull sort of disappointment, a day where he was forced to spend the evening with people he loathed, being forced to sit through hours of argument over dinner.

With Tom, it wasn’t like that. In their first year of dating, they’d stayed over at the Blake’s house for Christmas. Tom’s parents weren’t like Will’s—they gave hugs and told stories together, cried over Christmas films together, made dinner together. Will had braced himself for arguments that never came. They seemed to genuinely like each other. Will couldn’t get enough of it.

The next year, they spent it with Lauri and Eleanor, and it had been just as good. No arguments, just a bit of good natured banter, and that indescribable feeling of Christmas had slowly started to sneak in again.

This year, it was just the two of them. Lauri and Eleanor were visiting Lauri’s family, and the Blakes were on a trip to Scotland. Will didn’t mind at all. Being with Tom was more than enough.

Tom was always good at presents. You’d say something six months before Christmas, and find it wrapped up in a present on Christmas Day, wondering how on earth he’d remembered that.

And he was thoughtful, so much so that it poured out of every gift.

Will wasn’t quite so skilled—knowing what a person wanted without them explicitly telling was not something that came easily to him.

He’d started a list of things Tom mentioned or glanced at for just a moment too long. Will had learned to read the longing in Tom’s eyes, and he would quietly sneak things away to be used for birthdays or Christmas or Valentine’s Day. It wasn’t something that came naturally to him, but it always paid off.

He was especially proud of himself this Christmas. He’d gotten a good mix of things, and he watched the surprise show on Tom’s face when he would open a gift, see the way that Tom’s eyes lit up. 

Slowly, the presents trickled away until there were only two left under the tree to be opened, one for Tom and one for Will. Will reached for Tom’s, and hoped his hands weren’t shaking when he handed him the present. 

To his relief, Tom didn’t seem to notice—he eagerly gripped the gift and tore open the paper, then opened the box it was in. It was a book Will thought he’d like, and Tom beamed as he gazed at it.

“Wait, I was thinking of getting this!” Tom exclaimed, “Lauri was telling me it was really good! How’d you know?”

Will gave a modest shrug. “Just a lucky guess, I suppose,” he said.

Tom narrowed his eyes at him. “Lauri told you, didn’t she?” he asked.

“Actually, no,” Will said. “It was all on my own.”

“Well, I’m looking forward to reading that tonight,” Tom replied, tucking the book next to him. “And now, it’s your turn.” He rose onto his knees to reach for a box under the tree, passing it over to Will.

“Last one,” Tom told him. 

Will raised to his ear and gave it a shake, hearing faint rustling inside. Carefully, he unwrapped it and found that it was a bundle of blue fabric. Upon picking it up, he discovered it was a hand knitted sweater.

“What do you think?” Tom asked, his voice containing a stitch of anxiety. “I know you get cold a lot, and I was learning to knit, so…”

“You made this?” Will asked, looking over at him. “But I never saw you knitting! How’d you do it wihout me seeing?”

“I have my ways,” Tom said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Put it on?”

Will quickly tugged it on, marveling at how soft it was.

“Good, it fits,” Tom said, looking relieved. 

“I love it,” Will told him, leaning in for a kiss. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Tom told him. He gave a look over at the tree, which was bare with all the presents opened. “Right,” he said, “And that’s all!”

Will hesitated a moment. “Not quite,” he confessed, reaching under the couch where he’d hidden a small, wrapped package. “I have one more.”

Tom’s brows furrowed. “What?” he asked. “You never told me you were going to-“

“I know,” Will interrupted. “Just… open it, please.”

Tom still looked shocked, but he took it from Will and unwrapped it.

Will was certain he was trembling like a leaf now, but Tom was too fixated on the present to notice. When the wrapping paper was off, it revealed a small, velvet box. 

Will saw the confusion on Tom’s face, saw him flick it open, and saw him freeze at the thin, silver ring that was inside.

Will’s throat felt as dry as sand, but he still managed to speak. “Marry me?” he asked.

This wasn’t a complete surprise. They’d talked about marriage many times, and talked about wanting to get married, but the proposal itself hadn’t quite come. Until now.

“Bastard,” Tom managed, throwing his arms around Will. “Yes, of course I’ll marry you!”

They laughed a bit, and Tom, looking outrageously happy, kissed him.

It was a flurry of laughter and Will putting the ring on Tom’s finger, but when they settled, Tom leaned his forehead against Will’s.

“I love you,” he said. “So much.”

“I love you too,” Will said, lacing his fingers with Tom’s.

“My mum is going to lose it when I tell her,” Tom grinned, looking down at the ring. “Be prepared—in a few years she’ll start bringing up grandchildren.”

“She already does that,” Will pointed out with a smile.

“You’re right,” Tom admitted. “But it’ll be elevated, I think.”

“I don’t mind,” Will told him. 

Tom nodded. “I don’t either.”

They pulled apart for a moment, cleaning up the remnants of the wrapping paper on the floor before Tom returned to Will’s arms.

“Happy Christmas,” Will said softly.

“Happy Christmas,” Tom echoed, giving Will’s hand a squeeze.


End file.
